


band-aids and goddamn cats

by skuls



Series: X Files Rewatch Series [10]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode: s03e18 Teso Dos Bichos, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 01:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuls/pseuds/skuls
Summary: Missing scene from Teso Dos Bichos





	band-aids and goddamn cats

As soon as they get out of the vent, Mulder helps her stand, clutching her arms, and they walk away together. Behind them, the cats yowl through the metal covering.

“You okay?” Mulder asks softly, turning to face her. He reaches up to wipe the blood off of her face. 

She flinches at the small contact his fingers make with the abraded skin. “I’m fine. It got me pretty good, though.”

“That’s gotta be painful.” He lets go of her arm. She can still feel the warmth of his fingers through her coat. “You still keep that First-Aid kit in the car?”

“Glove compartment.”

“C’mon, I can call this in and you can clean yourself up.” They walk together towards their car, shadowy and large in the street lamp. The possibility of a good night’s sleep is looking dimmer and dimmer. Scully climbs into the passenger seat, and rummages through the glove compartment for the little white box she keeps an emergency stash in. Mulder, leaning halfway over the driver’s seat, hands her a wad of tissues; she presses one to the cut on her cheek and another to the cut above her eye.

The door snicks shut as Mulder steps outside, the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. _How the hell is he going to explain this one,_ Scully thinks ruefully; she dreads having to give their report to Skinner. She presses the Kleenex against her cheek hard before reaching back into the compartment to search for the kit. It falls away almost immediately, fluttering down into her lap. She huffs in frustration, hand finally curling around the white box. Her skin itches under the drying blood. 

"Here, Scully," says Mulder, appearing at her doorway. He scoops the Kleenex up and holds it in place, scrubbing a little at her cheek. She holds the other tissue against her forehead and tries not to blush. Mulder reaches past her with his free hand and grabs the water bottle in the cup holder, pours it over the Kleenex and wipes off the dried blood, and she is inexplicably reminded of ribs in Wisconsin. 

"Thanks," she mumbles, and quickly changes the subject. "Mulder, why the hell did you take this case, anyhow?"

"I thought a curse would be cooler than this one turned out to be," he says, and she rolls her eyes and makes a face. His thumb smudges against her jawline. "I would've skipped the kitty show if I'd known."

"No kidding," she says, wincing when the wet Kleenex makes contact with a different cut. 

He makes a small, sympathetic sound. "I used to have a cat when I was a kid. She hated everyone, but especially me. I was too loud, scared her all the time. She used to scratch me all the time. Hurt like hell."

"Mm, and I bet you were a huge baby when you were getting fixed up."

He smiles. "Something like that." His hand is hot on her jaw as he tips her chin upwards and studies the cuts crisscrossing her face. "Anything in there to take the stinging away?"

"Neosporin." Scully pulls the tube from the kit and starts to unscrew the cap. Mulder reaches for the bottle, but she shakes her head. "I can do it, Mulder, it's fine." She half-expects him to leave at that, but he stays, slumping against the side of the car as he watches. "I think you should consider a career change, Mulder," she says lightly, applying the Neosporin to the scratches. He raises an eyebrow. "To cat wrangling," she clarifies, and he chuckles quietly, in the same stunned way he always does when she surprises him with a joke. "You had that thing off of me and across the room in ten seconds flat."

"I'm always fast when it comes to you, Scully," he says with a surprising sincerity. "Or at least I try to be." Something flickers across his eyes, some dark memory, and his expression falls, just a little.

"My hero," she says dryly, grinning at him, but he doesn't smile back. He looks at the ground silently, and she can tell what he's thinking about. A hospital room two weeks ago. A gun in his hand, the muzzle angled towards her. "In all seriousness, Mulder, I've faced worse than cats. I'm alright."

"I know," he mumbles, but he doesn't look up. 

Scully sighs, looking down at her knees. She was hoping they'd be past this, his guilt over what happened. She wants to move on. She wants to forget what he looks like with a gun to his head. 

She turns back to the kit and scoops up the travel box of Band-Aids. She fumbles with the clasp for a minute, fingers slippery with Neosporin, before Mulder takes it from her. "Here, Scully, let me," he says softly, and his voice is so gentle it hurts. She nods silently. 

His fingers seem to leave behind hot prints behind on her skin. Evidence. Mulder Was Here. Scully tries not to shiver. He unwraps a Band-Aid and places it over the cut. "I'm sorry I led you into a den of evil goddamn cats, Scully," he says mournfully. 

"If I recall, I _made_ you go first," she reminds him, patting his wrist. 

"Still." He doesn't look at her as he smooths the Band-Aid on her forehead. "I'm sorry I put you in danger."

"You don't," says Scully firmly. He doesn't answer or look her in the eye, just works on putting a Band-Aid on the cut on her cheek. "Mulder, listen to me." She lets her hand slide under his chin and tips it so their eyes meet. He looks halfway startled, his palm against her cheek. "You don't put me in danger. I follow you because I want to."

"Scully," he says softly. 

"I follow you because I want to," she says again, voice trembling. “It’s my choice.” She sees him suddenly with the gun to his head, pulling the trigger. It’s only been two weeks since her partner was forced to shoot himself and didn’t shoot her. "Mulder," she whispers, rasping. 

He kisses her. Or she kisses him, she's not sure. Mouths colliding, heat fierce and electric between them. She balls one hand in his coat, tugging him closer. His knees hit the edge of the car, forcing him into a kneeling position that makes Scully taller than him. They don’t break the kiss. He hugs her tightly around the waist and kisses her and kisses her and kisses her until the sound of sirens erupt behind them. When Scully pulls away, blue and red lights play across Mulder’s face as he looks questioningly at her. “Scully?” he says uncertainly. His hand brushes her knee.

“Later,” she says firmly. She leans down and kisses his nose before pulling away to offer him a small smile. “We have to deal with the bodies now. And the cats.”

“Goddamn cats,” Mulder growls, getting to his feet. His thumb strokes her cheek, brushing the edge of the Band-Aid.

“I can second that,” says Scully. Her scratches still sting, Neosporin or no Neosporin. Her hand brushes his back as she gets up to stand beside him. “C’mon, let’s go.”

They walk together towards the flashing lights, trench coats flapping in the wind.


End file.
